


Fahliil Yah Drem

by Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-05-13 03:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 11,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14740808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth/pseuds/Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth
Summary: A series of one-shots/drabbles focused on a female High Elf Dragonborn, and her actions throughout her journey.(scenes found in the game may be modified for the sake of convenience)





	1. Chapter 1

_bjorn_

_do not come to this place_

_i have not much self left_

_the earth will take us both_

_- h_

The Dragonborn let drop the bloodstained letter she'd been holding. Peering through the eyes of her helmet, she approached the dead man laying on the ground before her. Nearby, the loud rumbling of a large Dwemer machine was starting to make her ears ring. 

Kneeling down and pressing her fingers against the man's skin, she surmised that he'd been dead for some time now. A bloody dagger found near his corpse gave her a possible idea as to how he died. 

Now getting back to her full height, the Dragonborn remembered something she'd noticed on the way to this abandoned house. Once she'd dusted herself off, she left the basement to go back outside, stepping over the two Reavers she'd killed upon arriving. 

...

Once she was out of the shack, the Dragonborn coughed and placed her hand onto her helmet to cover her nose and mouth; she still wasn't used to the air on Solstheim yet. Nevertheless, she pressed on to find what she'd been looking for. 

It didn't take long for her to find him, laying face down with a broken axe next to his corpse. Once she was close enough to him, she looked back to the house, now managing to put the pieces together. She turned her head the other way, spying a boat docked close by. The Dragonborn cautiously made her way over to it, peeking in before she got closer. 

To her relief, there was nothing dangerous. What she did find were an Amulet of Mara, and a gold diamond ring. Carefully, she picked both up. She then ran her fingers over the Amulet, well aware of what its presence meant. 

She, of course, never intended to wear one herself; there was simply no one she knew that she saw in that way. Even so, looking at Mara's symbol here, after what else she'd found, made her heart ache. 

Turning back to the corpse, the Dragonborn now knew what she could do to honor them. 

...

Dusting her hands off in order to rid them of any dirt, the Dragonborn looked down at the two fresh graves she'd dug. Leaning on the wall next to her, a shovel could be seen, having been recently used. 

The Dragonborn then lifted one of the two now shrouded bodies into a grave, then did the same with the other. When both of them were lowered to the bottom, she grabbed hold of the shovel again and threw dirt onto the bodies, patting them both with it when she'd filled the holes up. She then knelt down at one end of the graves, pulling out their apparent belongings. 

First came the dagger, now cleaned of any blood that had been on it. With a quick grunt, the Dragonborn plunged it into the ground in front of her. Next came the two pieces of the broken axe; carefully she leaned the handle against the dagger, and the head she placed around the two other items. 

Lastly, she pulled out the Amulet of Mara, and the diamond ring. The Amulet of Mara was put on the makeshift grave marker first, her draping and wrapping its chain around the dagger and handle. Then she took out the ring and placed it on top of the dagger's hilt. 

She waited for a few moments to see if it would fall apart on itself. When it remained standing, she got to her feet and dusted off her knees. Now, the Dragonborn just stood there, her head bowed in some kind of respect and prayer. She also expressed the hope that the two lovers could find each other in Sovngarde.

When she'd finished this, she turned to go, briefly glancing back at the graves while she was walking away. 


	2. Chapter 2

Windstad Manor held a strange gloom about it, regardless of what time of day it was. Lucia blamed that on the nearby swamp. 

Even with that swamp and its imposing presence, however, she kept watch at a nearby set of stairs. It was that important to her that she see her Mama whenever she returned. In the occasional event that there was an imminent threat, she didn't have to worry; the manor's housecarl dealt with them fairly quickly. 

"Come, little one!" Said housecarl cried out as he stuck his head out of the nearest door. "Your supper's getting cold."

Lucia frowned. She didn't want to leave her spot, but she didn't want to go hungry, either. "Okay, Valdimar." 

Getting to her feet, Lucia dusted herself off and walked down the rest of the stairs, and went inside. 

...

"Valdimar?" 

"Yes, child?" Valdimar didn't look up as he handed Lucia her potato bread and vegetable soup. 

Lucia just stared at her bread, considering whether or not she wanted to dip it into her soup. "Why is Mama always gone so much?" 

"You've asked that each time she's away, little one. And I've told you the answer: your Mama is a very important woman in Skyrim. Her role and her duties have her visit many towns and cities, while helping the inhabitants there. 

"In fact, her altruism has brought her many rewards, like the deed to the land this home rests on."

He'd told her about that as well. Lucia's Mama had still been holding the deed in her hands when the two met; it'd been handed to her by a courier that'd been looking for her, was what she'd told her. 

Lucia wasn't entirely certain what compelled this armor-clad elf woman to notice her presence at all, let alone decide to speak to her. 

And yet, she did. She'd knelt down to be closer to Lucia's eye-level, and removed her helmet. She then made a deal that seemed too good to be true; once she'd managed to lay groundwork to a proper house, she wanted little Lucia to come and live with her. To an orphan forced to beg for any septims in order to eat, it was a dream, a wonderful dream that she would gladly be a part of. 

In no time at all, here she was. 

Still, Lucia didn't know any kids her age that lived nearby. Even though Valdimar was there to watch over her and keep her company, she still got lonely. 

"I know she's important, Valdimar," she spoke up as she ripped her bread in half and took a bite. "But I still can't help but miss her." 

"Well..." Valdimar ate a bit of his soup before continuing. "Think of it this way, Lucia. Your Mama faces numerous dangers when off in Skyrim. And I've no doubt in my mind that you're constantly in her thoughts when she deals with any foes that come her way."

He watched her take another bite of bread. "So chances are that she misses you just as much as you miss her. Each time you look forward to her coming home, she looks forward to returning home as well." 

Lucia nodded. She didn't ask anything else as she and Valdimar ate the rest of her supper. 

...

When they were done, though, she had something else on her mind.

"Valdimar?" She now watched him pull out the ingredients for crostatas. "Tomorrow, can we go to Solitude? I want to get Mama a present when she gets back." 

Valdimar appeared to give her request some serious thought, if the way he stroked his chin was any indication. Then he nodded. 

"I don't see why not. I'll have to find Engar and have him bring us there. Now, pick out which kind of berry you want for this crostata..." 


	3. Chapter 3

_Maw unleashing razor snow,_

_Of dragons from the blue brought down,_

_Births the walking winter's woe,_

_The High King in his Jagged Crown_

**_-Ancient Nord verse_ **

As per the command of General Tullius, the Dragonborn had sought out the mythical Jagged Crown. Now, she held it in her hands. She was careful, as though she believed that it could come apart in her hands. The potential that this single, ancient piece of history held was all the more evident for that, however.

On her way back to Solitude, the Dragonborn stopped and sat down on a rock in an abandoned campsite, just off the beaten path. There was no sign that the previous owners of the site were going to come back. She was grateful that there was a pot to cook with, at least. 

She set the crown on the dirt at her feet, staring at it contemplatively. Hopefully Tullius wouldn't mind it being a little dirty when she brought it back. 

...But now that she thought about it, suddenly that didn't seem like the best idea. For as much as she wished not to escalate things further with the Thalmor, she also didn't want to remain under their thumb, either; just like the Empire had apparently wound up. 

The Dragonborn didn't really know the whole story, but from what she heard, worship of Talos had been outlawed, as per the While-Gold Concordat. This was what this entire war was about; the freedom to worship. 

She wasn't really one to invoke any of the gods, despite having their shrines in her cellar, back at home. Of course, she'd made a shrine to Talos, as well, for the sake of completion. In order to keep from possibly being caught by any visiting officials, however, she'd hidden it away. 

Lucia had found it once, when going downstairs to train with a dagger that the Dragonborn had given her. She didn't understand why it wasn't with the others, since she thought it looked cool. Oddly enough, the Dragonborn couldn't bring herself to explain it to her. 

_Lucia._

If there was one thing she didn't ever want, it was her little girl being persecuted at the hands of the Thalmor. They made the Dragonborn herself ashamed to be of the same race as them. 

Picking up the crown, the Dragonborn was beginning to truly understand why both factions wanted it. Somehow, she understood perfectly now what the Stormcloaks were fighting for. She kept staring at it, running her finger along one of the many horns that protruded from the top. 

Regardless of Ulfric's true intentions, he at least was giving others the chance to turn things around in Skyrim. Everyone had their reasons for joining the Stormcloaks. 

And now she had hers. 

Standing up again, the Dragonborn looked in the direction of Solitude, and then of Windhelm. She hoped that the Stormcloaks wouldn't become hostile at her presence. She also hoped she didn't have to go through some irritating initiation ritual, like she had with the Imperials. 

With the rest of her belongings, the Dragonborn set off towards Windhelm. 


	4. Chapter 4

_Alright, I believe you. You aren't the first to turn away from the Empire in disgust._

_But remember; you're one of us now, forever._

_Whatever Imperial loyalties you may have had, that's all in the past, forgotten._

_Now, to prove yourself to me, I have a task for you..._

* * *

Much to the Dragonborn's relief, she'd managed to get her job done with a minimum of resistance. 

After the initial suspicion, Ulfric Stormcloak was willing to recruit her; perhaps it'd helped that he recognized her from the dragon attack at Helgen, as well. 

In exchange for the Jagged Crown, Ulfric had given her his axe, to deliver to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun, something the Dragonborn eagerly agreed to.

The reaction from the Jarl would determine whether or not the war would advance further. Somehow, the Dragonborn already had a feeling what that reaction was going to be. 

Stopping somewhere in the middle of Whiterun, amongst the outdoor vendors, she reached behind herself and patted the war axe to make sure it was still there, still strapped to her back. 

Its presence brought forth the realization that the Dragonborn was now officially a traitor. She'd pledged loyalty to the Empire, and then turned her back on them. Yet, she didn't feel all that bad about it. If it meant that the odious Thalmor were taken down a notch, so be it. 

She just hoped that any friendships she had in Whiterun wouldn't be too severely damaged from all this. 

The Dragonborn forced herself to get moving again, passing numerous other townsfolk on the way. 

As she ascended the stairs to Dragonsreach, she could hear Heimskr preaching the word of Talos. Once the war was over, hopefully he would no longer have to fear being left to die in a prison cell, or something similarly cruel. 

Once she then crossed the bridge leading to Dragonsreach, The Dragonborn found herself at the entrance to the castle itself. 

Taking a deep breath, she placed both her hands on one of the doors, and pushed it open. 

She had to prepare herself for anything, for there was no turning back now.


	5. Chapter 5

The way to Solitude was a bumpy one. 

Lucia was trying to keep herself from falling out of the carriage seat, and holding onto her accrued savings at the same time. Valdimar sat across from her, apparently sleeping with his arms crossed. Engar, the carriage driver, was keeping his focus intently on the road ahead of him. 

Besides the sound of horse hooves against the road, it was quiet. This alone was maddening. 

"Excuse me," she said to the carriage driver. "Mister Engar? How long before we reach Solitude?" 

As he looked over his shoulder to answer her, Lucia could've sworn he was quick glancing at her bag of money before looking back up at her. 

"Not long now, kid. Look!" 

He then took one hand off the horse reins and pointed ahead of him; indeed, the walls of Solitude loomed in the distance, as grandiose as ever. 

Very little was said after that, until they reached the gate. Lucia managed to shake Valdimar awake and hop out of the carriage. Before she could get very far, though, she heard Engar clear his throat. 

"Don't I get payment for bringing you here, little girl?" He sounded a bit annoyed. Lucia was about to protest when Valdimar cut in. 

" _I'll_ handle this, little one," he told her while patting her on the shoulder, and leading her away from Engar. "You go on ahead and find a shop you wish to get something from."

As she walked away, Lucia could hear the two men arguing. Several times, her Mama's name was said. 

Lucia then cringed when Engar referred to her as a 'filthy, no good elf', and demanded to know why Valdimar, a 'fellow Nord', would side with her over him. 

"My Thane's race is irrelevant, Engar. I ask that you show her a little respect. Or else..."

Trying not to look back, Lucia heard Valdimar start to unsheath his sword. 

"The Dragonborn would not be pleased with you for attempting to extort money from her only child."

"Oh, come on! I'm just trying to make a living here-"

"And that is why we hired in the first place. I doubt you'd wish to go back to what you had before you came into my Thane's employ." 

Lucia didn't hear the rest of the conversation. She'd already reached the door to Solitude and made her way through. 

She hoped Valdimar wouldn't do something he'd regret later. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I decided to just skip all the battles during the war, since I'm not confident enough that I remember exactly how they all went. Also I don't want to try and pad things out too much.

As soon as Lucia entered Solitude, she gasped audibly; the sight that awaited her was a grisly one. 

Surrounding her was a multitude of corpses, many of them wearing Imperial armor. At least several parts of the buildings nearby had caught fire, or had also fallen apart. 

The shock of all this practically drowned out Valdimar's arguing with Engar outside the wall. Lucia practically had to force herself to keep walking. As she did, she put away her money and reached towards her left hip. To her relief, the dagger she'd brought along for protection was indeed there. 

She almost didn't want to risk losing one piece of her growing dagger collection, one which her Mama was gladly helping her with. It wasn't anywhere near the level of the Dragonborn's favored dagger, but then, hardly anything could reach that. 

Lucia took hold of her dagger, gripping its handle tightly as she kept walking. The further into the city she went, the more powerful the stench of death and sulfur became. She actually had to lift up the top of her dress to cover her nose and mouth, she was coughing on it so much. 

"Hello?" She called out. "Can anyone hear me? Anyone?!" 

No answer, or at least not a direct one. Lucia could then hear a man's voice off in the distance, loud and clear. Now hopeful that someone in this mess was alive, she broke off into a run. 

And she kept running until she caught sight of a surprising, yet relieving sight. 

...

"And now," Galmar Stone-Fist yelled out to the remaining soldiers in a powerful voice, "I present to you, Ulfric Stormcloak, hero of the people, liberator and High King of Skyrim!"

Ulfric stepped forward when he was introduced, and acknowledged the crowd. "I am indeed Ulfric Stormcloak!" Here, he gestured to the heavily armored woman standing next to him. "And at my side, the woman we know as Stormblade, and the world knows as the Dragonborn!"

While Ulfric went on praising the soldiers, the Dragonborn looked off to the side, as discreetly as she could; she didn't want anyone to think she was bored or anything. When she did, she could've sworn she caught sight of a person she hadn't expected to be there, at least not while Solitude was in this state. 

She just shook it off, though, and looked back to the soldiers, while Ulfric continued his speech to the cheers of those loyal to him. 

"The Aldmeri Dominion may have defeated the Empire, but it has  ** _not!_ _Defeated!_ ****_Skyrim!_** " 

More cheering. Admittedly, the Dragonborn couldn't help but smirk to herself when she heard this part; if it meant striking a blow against the Thalmor in any way, she would gladly be part of it. 

...

"The Imperials aren't going to leave us alone," Galmar said to Ulfric after his speech had concluded. "They still have camps in the hills. They'll continue to strike out at us, whenever and wherever they can."

"I'm not afraid of the remnants of the Legion," Ulfric responded. "In time they'll all give up and go home. What I fear is that the Thalmor will see our victory here, and turn greater attention to our shores. We must be prepared to face them."

"Aye." 

Ulfric then turned to the Dragonborn. "And of course, we couldn't have done it without you. May the gods preserve you."  To this, the Dragonborn simply nodded as thanks. 

"May the gods preserve us all."

"Come, Galmar. We've still much work to do."

The Dragonborn watched the two men leave, before looking down to the ground in contemplation. Now that the Civil War was over, perhaps now she could focus on the destiny that was chosen for her: defeating the evil dragon Alduin. 

But first, onto the unexpected arrival that she'd seen earlier.  Said arrival was quickly barreling towards her now.

...

" ** _Mama_**!" Lucia cried out as she ran towards the Dragonborn, her arms open in anticipation for a hug. Once she got close enough, a hug was what she received. 

The Dragonborn picked up her daughter, and spun her around in her own arms before stopping and holding her closer. 

Lucia continued speaking before giving her Mama a chance to do so herself.  "I didn't know you were here, Mama! I asked Valdimar to bring me to Solitude to get you a present, and-" 

She just kept chattering as the Dragonborn set her back down onto her feet, and led her away from the crowds. 


	7. Chapter 7

Engar just about pissed himself when he saw who was returning with Valdimar and Lucia. Or rather, he did once he actually realized she was there. 

He didn't at first, leading him to get mouthy with the other two. 

"Well now!" He sneered at Lucia. "Have you decided that being a spoiled little brat isn't worth you and your worthless nanny here never getting home again?" Lucia just pouted at him, crossing her arms. In turn, Valdimar set a hand onto her shoulder, and returned Engar's glare. 

"I thought we'd gone over this earlier, Engar," he said to him. "And I don't think my Thane would appreciate your behavior right now." 

Engar just snorted, putting his hands on his hips and attempting to look tough. "Come on! She isn't even here! There's nothing she can do about it! And you've got no proof of what I've been trying to do with her little milkdrinker here, and-"

He stopped when he realized the Dragonborn was coming up behind her daughter and housecarl. 

"Dragonborn!" His backpedaling speed was unbelievable. "Uh...so nice to see you here! Now, I'm sure you've probably heard some rather unpleasant things surrounding me right now while you were gone..." The Dragonborn just crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. 

She was most certainly not pleased. 

...

It was Valdimar that drove the carriage back to Windstad Manor this time. Engar was unable to do so, on account of him being tied up and begging for his life. He looked an absolute mess; tears and mucus were streaming down respectively from his eyes and nose. By now, he  _had_ pissed himself. The whole spectacle just made him look pathetic.

And it was ineffective anyway; not once did the Dragonborn look at him or even acknowledge his pleas for clemency. She just kept staring ahead, barely moving at all. Her behavior was scaring even her daughter. 

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, they all reached the manor by nightfall. Once the carriage stopped, the Dragonborn stood up and literally kicked Engar out, causing him to hit the ground and get himself all muddy. 

"Dragonborn, please!" He wouldn't quit with the begging, even as she grabbed him by the neck and dragged him over to the place where she chopped firewood. "I promise never to try and extort money from your daughter again! Just don't do this!" 

Quickly, Valdimar ushered Lucia into the house. Lucia knew full well what her Mama was about to do; it upset her, but she knew there was no arguing about it. It was simply a part of her Mama's job; kill those who threaten anything and anyone she loved and cared for. 

"Best you get yourself to bed, little one," he said to her. "No sense in staying up and dwelling on all this." Lucia could only nod, covering her ears as she scurried into her room. Even by doing this, however, Engar's hollering could be heard through the thick walls of stone and wood of the manor. It persisted even as she crawled into bed and held the pillow over her ears. 

And then she heard nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

_I...I'd really like a dolly._

_Or maybe a pretty new dress?_

* * *

 

It pained the Dragonborn knowing she had to leave her beloved daughter once again. Leaving after what had just recently happened made it even worse. Nonetheless, Lucia and Valdimar were all smiles as she and her Mama waved goodbye to each other; after all, regardless of whatever she'd done, she was still Lucia's Mama. 

The Dragonborn just kept waving even as she got further away, actually walking backwards at one point. When she turned back to press on to her destination, she reached under her helmet and wiped away a tear, sniffling as she did. She then swallowed any remaining tears that were threatening to leak forth, and regained her usual stoic demeanor. 

Her main destination was clear: High Hrothgar. 

It was going to take her a while, as she preferred to travel on foot, but she'd get there eventually. 

...

After she traveled on for long enough, the Dragonborn ended up pitching camp when dusk fell. She didn't stay awake for much longer, just long enough to light a fire and set her things aside. 

It had initially been extremely uncomfortable to sleep in a full set of armor, the first time she'd done it. Eventually, though, she ended up getting used to it. Not that it was really something she wanted to do on a regular basis, if she could help it. But it was infinitely preferable to what happened a few hours after she went to sleep. 

The Dragonborn had awakened to the sound of somebody rummaging through her belongings. It was still very dark out, and the fire she'd built had already dwindled down greatly. But she could still see a trio of unfamiliar people standing around it, their backs all turned to her. They were all complaining about how 'this traveler' didn't have anything of value. 

She sat up, taking care not to make too much noise from her suit of armor. Then, she grabbed hold of her razor (she wasn't really too proud of how she got it, but it was a good weapon, being of the Daedric variety). The entire time, not once did the thieves look behind them to see if she were still asleep. 

By the time any of them actually noticed she was awake, two of them already had had their throats cut. The last one remaining was crawling away, begging the Dragonborn to let him live. Given that she kept approaching him as he backed away, it was clear she had no intentions of doing that. 

Within a few moments, he joined his friends. 

Now deciding she wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep, the Dragonborn searched their bodies for any gold or valuable items she could sell. When she gathered up all she could find, she grabbed the rest of her things and headed off once more to High Hrothgar. 

Maybe now she'd save some time by going now, and getting there early; she didn't think Alduin was really going to wait up for her, after all. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forget what that Shout you need to reach Paarthurnax was called

_There's one more thing; we know about Paarthurnax._

* * *

It was an unexpected scene the Dragonborn came to upon reaching High Hrothgar. She didn't expect to see the Blades and the Greybeards in one place. 

She did, however, expect them to be bickering with each other; this was precisely what they were all doing. 

At least they were until they realized she was there. 

Delphine tried to reason with her, saying that the dragon atop the mountain needed to die. Arngeir cut in then, calling Delphine and Esbern heartless monsters. 

Words were exchanged. Arguments were ignited. Daedric weapons were pointed at throats.In the end, the Dragonborn managed to have both sides come to some kind of agreement: If Paarthurnax was to be killed (which the Dragonborn did not _ever_ intend to do), the Blades had to go with him. 

She never really liked the Blades anyway; she thought they were unnecessary and needed to leave her be. Not that they ever would, but still. 

The urge to plunge Mehrunes' razor into Delphine and Esbern's throats would always be there, anyway. 

Now the Dragonborn was traveling upwards (after being told by Arngeir just how proud of her that he was), up to meet Paarthurnax at last. 

It'd be a lie if she'd told anyone she wasn't afraid. Were it not for the power of her Thu'um, she'd probably have fallen a good distance by now. And yet, she pressed on. 

As she went, the Dragonborn could make out the fallen, but still fresh corpses of creatures like goats and frost trolls. There looked to perhaps even be the still clothed skeletons of a few foolish travelers. 

Each step she took, she was reminded of what was at stake, of the burden she carried upon her shoulders. If she failed, it would mean the end of Skyrim, and even Tamriel. Countless lives would be lost, those of her friends, her allies, her _daughter_...

After what felt like forever, of running and Shouting, the Dragonborn reached the top. As predicted, she was tired and out of breath. 

She didn't even see any old man either. Believing she'd been tricked, the Dragonborn turned to go back down. However, she was halted by a loud sound. Turning around, the sight before her now was magnificent. 

When the Greybeards told her of their leader, she expected to see another old man. 

She saw one, but he was quite a scaly fellow. And not human at all. 


	10. Chapter 10

_And one more thing! I will hear no more talk of adoptions! None of you riff-raff is getting adopted. Nobody needs you, nobody **wants** you. That, my darlings, is why you're here. Why you'll always be here, until you come of age and get thrown into that wide, horrible world. Now, what do you all say?_

* * *

As the Dragonborn preferred to go on foot everywhere, it was probably going to be some time before she reached Sky Haven Temple. And she wasn't even going in that direction anyway. 

Instead, she opted to go the opposite way, to Riften. Surely the Blades could wait for her as she got supplies in another location besides Whiterun. Perhaps she could also get a few things for her own enjoyment, as well; having to put the people of Skyrim first all the time could get just a bit overwhelming. 

But as it turned out, the Dragonborn would have to put all that on hold when she got there. Shortly after she'd arrived at Riften, she heard the guards speaking of the director of the Honorhall Orphanage. Naturally, having a soft spot for children, the Dragonborn had to go check it out. 

She was unpleasantly surprised when she arrived there. Even though the orphanage director was referred to as Grelod the Kind, she was obviously anything but. Her assistant and the poor children under her care clearly had dealt with this for a while now. 

Grelod's shrill, aged voice felt as if somebody were ramming daggers into her ears. The Dragonborn in fact couldn't wait before the old hag concluded her verbal abuse of the kids. Blinded by rage, she stepped up to Grelod and delivered a swift left hook to the side of her face, directly at her temple. 

The Dragonborn could still feel (and _hear_ ) Grelod's skull crunching from the impact of her well-armored fist. The crone was dead well before she even hit the ground. All of the adrenaline and wrath that the Dragonborn was feeling up to that moment, had seemingly vanished; it were as if it had all gone out of her fist, contributing to the power it had when she slammed it into Grelod's head. 

She was snapped out of it by the cheering of the kids behind her. All of them (except for Grelod's assistant, who was running about screaming) were shouting in joy, declaring that someone named Aventus had done it. The Dragonborn didn't hear the rest of the praising, though; by then, she'd run out the back door and jumped the stone fence in the backyard of the orphanage. 

Going by the lack of commotion, it looked as if the Dragonborn had gotten away scot-free. She sighed a breath of relief, and continued about her business. It wasn't until much later, after she'd left Riften with all the supplies she'd needed, that the Dragonborn was encountered by a courier. He said his usual piece and handed her a letter, before leaving her.

She wasted no time ripping the letter open, and gasped at the contents. According to the letter, a woman named Constance Michel (presumably the screaming woman back at the orphanage) had taken over, and was proudly announcing that adoptions were now being allowed. 

The Dragonborn wasn't actually sure if she should adopt one of them (Lucia alone could be a handful at times). If nothing else, though, she could always visit them and play with them. Hopefully they'd appreciate that. 

Scanning the rest of the letter, she then saw something that had clearly been hastily written. Constance probably didn't have much to write it in before sending the flyers out: 

**_P.S. If this is the Dragonborn, the children and I just want to say thank you, and that you are always welcome at Honorhall Orphanage._ **


	11. Chapter 11

_Sweet Mother, sweet Mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear._

* * *

 The Dragonborn never expected to find herself in another hostage situation. And yet, finding herself in a decrepit shack with four others couldn't have been just a vivid dream.

Perhaps she should've taken the mysterious letter she'd recently gotten more seriously. Going by what she looked at, the Dragonborn had deduced that it was simply a prank by one of her detractor (of which there were surprisingly few, but still)

Before her, a woman dressed in all black and red explained to her that by killing Grelod, she'd taken a kill that rightfully belonged to the Dark Brotherhood. As she spoke, the way she reclined on a shelf, for whatever reason, upset the Dragonborn greatly. Still, she remained quiet and listened. 

According to the woman, known as Astrid, the Dragonborn now had to kill one of three hostages in the shack with them.

For the sake of formality, she spoke with all three of them. None of them seemed like particularly great people; the sniveling coward, the sharp-tongued mother of six, the Khajiit that lived a generally tumultuous life. Once the interrogation was over and done with, the Dragonborn withdrew her razor and made her choice. 

She made certain to take everything that Astrid had of value on her person, including her admittedly cool robes.

...

Commander Maro had at first been in total disbelief when the Dragonborn brought word that she had killed Astrid. His disbelief faded, however, when she produced Astrid's clothing to him. The Dragonborn herself had the same feelings; despite the Stormcloaks winning the war, he was still alive. She decided not to look into it, though. And Maro didn't seem to have any ill feelings toward her anyway. 

From the sound of things, the Penitus Oculatus were attempting to infiltrate the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary, but only recently made any progress. With the Dragonborn's arrival, Maro decided that it was only fitting that she would be the one to take them all out for good. Thusly, with the password to the sanctuary ("Silence, my brother"), she did just that. 

It was nighttime by the time she arrived. Considering what the Dark Brotherhood were known for, she deemed it ironic in a good way. For her, at least. Even renowned assassins had to sleep sometime. Once she was in, she was both relieved and fearful when she heard no voices. 

Crouching down, the Dragonborn readied her magic and razor and, quietly as she could, made her way to the first room. 

...

The blacksmith's tools, tempting as they were to use, had to be ignored as the Dragonborn approached her first target. She would have to find another time to refine her Daedric razor. For now, the sleeping man before her would have to die first. And she could always come back later. 

He died quickly enough. When he stopped struggling to gasp for air, she went on to her next victim: a Redguard. She kept out of sight until his back was turned, then promptly went over and slashed his throat. For good measure, she yanked his hood over his face beforehand, should the wound to his neck not be enough to finish him off. 

After him, there were then a Dunmer and an Argonian. An Icy Spear spell to the head was enough to kill the Argonian right away. The Dunmer ended up looking about frantically before she too was hit with ice. Their corpses were slumped over onto the table they were sitting at, the ice still lodged into their brains. 

Finally, all that remained was an old man (There had also been a spider, but that wasn't really worth commenting on). the Dragonborn contemplated letting him live, as he didn't seem long for this world anyway. Then she remembered why she was there, and just ran up and stabbed him in the spine. She watched him fall to the ground, unable to move his legs. 

Then, in a moment of pure sadism, she kept looking on as he begged for help, not knowing that she'd slain his Dark Brotherhood brethren. She let him crawl a little ways, before walking up to him again, raising her foot and stomping his head to a pulp. 

Now that the job was done, the Dragonborn looked about the sanctuary, and proceeded to loot all the bodies of their valuables and clothing. Suffice to say, she made out like a bandit. There were plenty of jewels and septims that could be put away for emergencies or shopping trips. 

Maybe she could also stop by the Radiant Raiment in Solitude later, and have the Dark Brotherhood robes repurposed into more sensible clothing. 


	12. Chapter 12

_I don't claim to be the best blacksmith in Whiterun. Eorlund Gray-Mane's got that honor. The man's steel is legendary. All I ask is a fair chance._

* * *

 The Dragonborn never really was one for jewelry, unless it were enchanted to help turn battles in her favor. Now she was adding the times she needed money, and didn't want to pawn off her armor (which was often). 

It was irritating to make do with silver ingots and amethysts; they never really fetched a very good price with any potential buyers. But it was better than nothing. At least the blacksmith was willing to let her use the forge, even after the Stormcloak victory. 

Due to Adrianne's drop in business, the Dragonborn had been buying various weapons and armor to try and make up for the loss. Then she sold them elsewhere to try and regain some of her own money back. It was a bizarre and actually somewhat embarrassing cycle. But she felt she had to do it. 

There were also any jewelry and gems that the Dragonborn found off of any bodies she looted. Somehow she managed to convince Adrianne and her husband to buy those as well if need be.

She'd actually caught Adrianne wearing a couple pieces she'd sold her from time to time. Although the Dragonborn wouldn't admit it, she felt a sense of pride whenever that happened. 

In time, the Dragonborn came to realize that she actually considered Adrianne a friend. The two obviously weren't the typical 'gossipy hens', but they liked each other well enough.

The Dragonborn only wished she had more reasons for visiting besides using Adrianne's forge (she was afraid of using the Skyforge, for whatever reason). But at least this way she had someone to rely on while out and away from home. 

Hopefully Adrianne returned the sentiments. 


	13. Chapter 13

_Hello. I'm Gisli, but you can call me Erikur's sister. Everyone does_.

* * *

 It was baffling for the Dragonborn to see a fellow Altmer be so rude to her. Especially one with the potential for saving all of Skyrim. 

Endarie's sour personality made her want to slap her in the face, if not jam her razor into it.

The only reason she was even going through with this was to help the inhabitants in town, and become a Thane. She also made a note to burn the dress she had to wear to impress the Jarl Elisif; nothing felt right to wear to her but her beloved armor. 

Thankfully, it seemed to have worked; Elisif said that she would place a few orders next chance she got. Being a Thane didn't seem all that great, however, when she finally became one. One of them was rude to her as well. 

She wasn't the only one who hated the guy, either. Apparently, his poor sister had to live with the man. Endarie's nasty behavior wasn't so unexplainable now. He kept raising their rent. 

In general, the Dragonborn agreed with Gisli that Erikur was indeed a 'pompous little fop', as she so eloquently put it. Even so, the Dragonborn's idea of getting back at Erikur turned out to be a drastic one. 

While she'd been seeking out Elisif in the Blue Palace, the Dragonborn found herself in the Jarl's bedchambers. She didn't know what she had been thinking, but before long, she was digging through her drawers and found several thousands worth of jewelry and septims. For good measure, she'd also taken a pair of Elisif's 'special' underwear, weird as that was. 

During one visit to Gisli and Erikur's house (she'd been visiting Gisli to try and get her to be less unpleasant to her), she'd shoved all the stolen goods in between the mattresses of Erikur's bed. 

When word got out that the Jarl had been robbed, it was only a matter of time before Erikur was discovered to have her belongings. No amount of pleas or declarations of innocence convinced the people of Solitude otherwise, though. 

Now when she spoke with Gisli, and the topic veered towards Erikur (much as the Dragonborn tried not to let it), her insults toward him were added on to. 

If Gisli knew at all of the involvement the Dragonborn had in the fiasco, she never said anything about it. She just stated that in addition to being a fop, her brother was now a thief and a pervert; stealing the intimates of the former High King's widow was an absolute crime. 

According to her, Erikur did it out of revenge for losing any actual power he once had as a Thane at court. Now he lost that title as well, and would no doubt spend the rest of his life in prison. 

The Dragonborn swore to herself that she could never reveal the truth. She certainly didn't want to take Erikur's place. 

At least Endarie and her sister weren't such jerks to her anymore. 


	14. Chapter 14

_"Greetings sister Elf. Good to see a familiar face so far from home."_

* * *

It wasn't just Altmer that the Dragonborn was trying to befriend; it was pretty much all elven-kind. Part of her wanted to try and become civil with at least one member of each type. During her first visit to Riverwood (after the whole mess at Helgen), her desire to do just that was only strengthened when she encountered a Bosmer known as Faendal.

He wasn't the only person she encountered, though he was the only completely pleasant one. 

As the Dragonborn was staying at an inn, enjoying a nice glass of mead, she could hear the crotchety voice of an old woman. First the old hag insulted her, saying that their wonderful little village would soon be overrun by 'disgusting elves' that needed to stay with their own races. 

Somehow, after hearing that, the Dragonborn resisted the urge to break her mead glass and cause trouble. She knew the crone (whose name she later discovered was Hilde) was referring to her; it was one of the rare times she'd taken her helmet off. Then Hilde went on to gush about her son Sven, who was supposedly a wonderful bard. 

The Dragonborn had heard him sing a couple of times before; he wasn't very good at all. 

Just this once, she was willing to let it go; Hilde wasn't the only old coot who spewed racisms toward her kind. But then Sven, like the idiot he was, joined in at one point.  _That_ , she could not forgive. 

Later that night, when both Sven and Hilde left the inn, the Dragonborn herself was hesitant to do so. She knew that her journey to slay Alduin was of the utmost importance, but right now her personal grievance was too powerful to just ignore. Not even drinking several bottles of the inn's finest mead cooled her down. 

She had to do something about it. 

As she was leaving to go see what exactly she  _could_  do, she caught sight of Faendal, who was on his own way home. The two locked eyes for a few brief moments, not saying a word. Then, Faendal stepped closer, pulling out a key that he gave to her. Taking a quick glance down at it, she looked back up at him. Perhaps some hidden connection between the two caused him to know what precisely she was finally intending to do. 

When Faendal turned and left, the Dragonborn was alone, standing by herself in the middle of the road. She then forced herself to go to the house she believed the key would belong to. Thankfully, both Sven and Hilde were sleeping like a couple of fallen logs when she let herself in.

Although the Dragonborn hadn't been planning a repeat of the Dark Brotherhood, she didn't really plan on a whole lot of things anymore. For now, all she really wanted to do was slit their throats and be done with it. 

This was precisely what she did. Sven and Hilde were taken so off guard, neither of them could put up any sort of a fight; she also made sure to cover their noses and mouths with her free hand to be certain. The Dragonborn didn't leave their house until she saw the lights in their eyes go out. 

Once she did leave, she caught sight of Faendal standing a short distance away. Much like earlier, the two stared right at each other. The Dragonborn was actually afraid that he might end up finding the nearest authority and reporting her for murder. 

Her fears, of course, were unfounded; all he did was give a slow, single nod to her. It was a gesture she gladly returned, before turning and running off in the other direction. 


	15. Chapter 15

"Careful now, little one," Valdimar said to Lucia when he found her rummaging through the Dragonborn's chests and drawers one morning. "You know your Mama can be very protective of her belongings." 

Exactly why Lucia was going through her Mama's things, even she didn't know. Perhaps it was natural childlike curiosity at work. Whatever the reason, it led her to rummage through anything and everything she could get her hands on. Most of her discoveries were flawless jewels and valuable weapons, which fit the Dragonborn perfectly. 

In her time since arriving at Windstad Manor, Lucia did know that even she (and Valdimar) wasn't allowed to touch everything in the house. This included the Enchanting table, most of the weapons, and the full set of Ebony armor on the top floor. That didn't mean Lucia couldn't admire it from afar, though. 

The Dragonborn never told Lucia that she couldn't search through everything else, though. Today, that was precisely what she was doing. She did stop briefly when Valdimar caught her doing it, though. 

"I'm sorry Valdimar," she told him. "I guess I was afraid that Mama would scold me if I did this while she was home. And I just..." Here she pulled out a dresser drawer, revealing some interesting accessories. Now she was distracted by how odd and spooky all of them looked. 

Now with his own curiosity piqued, Valdimar stepped over to be by her side. He took out one of the bizarre masks, and gave it a thorough look over. 

"Ah, yes. The Dragon Priest masks," he spoke in awe, picking up another one. "I do believe there are legends that speak of these. The first time the Dragonborn brought one here, I couldn't believe my eyes." He let one of his fingers drag around the edge.

"How come Mama keeps them hidden?" Lucia asked while staring at the one he was holding now. 

Valdimar shrugged a bit, setting it back into the drawer. "Perhaps even she is terrified of the great power they hold. In turn, she hides them away in the hopes that they don't fall into the wrong hands. Out of sight, out of mind, I suppose." 

Now he closed the drawer, hiding the masks underneath some clothing once more. 

"For now, child, let's put all the rest of these things away. If your Mama discovers anything out of place or missing, it might not be pretty." 

It took surprisingly long to do so; Lucia had searched every nook and cranny quite well. 


	16. Chapter 16

_"You know, if you have the aptitude, you should join the Mage's College in Winterhold."_

* * *

It was still hard to believe that this small, remote, largely ruined town needed a Jarl. But there was one anyway. Said Jarl was kind enough to give the Dragonborn land to build on; it was the very land that Windstad Manor had been built on. For that, it seemed right to continue visiting it from time to time. 

The Dragonborn simply hoped that the Greybeards weren't getting annoyed with her dragging her feet; she at least got the Elder Scroll she needed. Hopefully that would soften them up (if they didn't claim she was a blasphemer for having it, at least). She also hoped never to deal with Lexicon puzzles for a good while. 

Every time she came to Winterhold, the college there loomed over her a short distance away. She'd managed to get into the place, and deal with everything there. If nothing else, she'd managed to learn a few spells. She'd also been turned into a cow by one of the other students. That was none too pleasant. 

At least it wasn't too terrible compared to dealing with Ancano there. 

While the Dragonborn wandered about the college, she entered the area where the Eye of Magnus had once been held. Selfish as it sounded, she'd wished the Psijic Monks hadn't taken it away. It made the college look a little more interesting, if nothing else. After staring into the room for a little while, watching students practice their wards, she left to enter the library. 

Of course, it probably wasn't a good idea to be reading about various trivial matters when the whole of Skyrim depended on her. She did it anyway; better these books than anything in relation to Hermaeus Mora. 

She then found a couple of books meant for children, which sort of baffled her; last she checked, there were hardly ever any children around this town. 

When she asked about them, it ended with her getting the books just handed to her. Now Lucia had something to read the next time she went to go see her. 

Figuring she spent enough time dawdling about. When all her business at the college was in order, she left to continue on her journey. 


	17. Chapter 17

_"Releasing a captured dragon. I don't ever think I'll ever understand that one."_

* * *

Knowing full well that she was going to get a few disapproving looks and snide remarks about it later, the Dragonborn complied with Odahviing's request to let him go. It was, after all, the only real way to reach Alduin and fulfill her destiny as Dragonborn. 

She kept this in mind as she rode atop Odahviing, on their way to Skuldafn. 

When the two of them arrived, the Dragonborn had to hold her tongue to keep from saying anything ridiculous; to her disappointment, he couldn't go any further with her. He did say after this was all over, she could call upon him anytime she needed him. 

The problem was that she kind of needed him now. But she'd have to go without him this time. 

...

When she had gotten some ways through the ruins, the Dragonborn hoped that she would never have to deal with complicated puzzles again after this. Of course, Alduin made it more difficult for her, what with him having fled to Sovngarde. 

The draugr in Skuldafn managed to be even worse. Although the Dragonborn knew this place was a tomb, it was still quite frustrating to have to try and cut down numerous Nord undead. Part of it might also have been because it was a resting place for Nords, which she was most definitely not. If so, then these draugr were filthy bigots on top of all that. 

Finally, though, she was able to cut through. The roar of a dragon was heard when she reached the portal she had desperately been searching for. This passed quite quickly, and she wasn't really paying attention to them. Instead, her focus was on the Dragon Priest. 

The Dragonborn couldn't believe her luck now; the mask this Priest donned was the last one she'd been looking for to finish her collection. Perhaps she could spare just a bit of time to dispatch him, and loot him. It wasn't like she was going to get another chance to ever return for Sovngarde. 

 

 

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot about this for over a month whoops

_"When you have completed your count of days, I may welcome you again, with glad friendship, and bid you join the blessed feasting. When you are ready to rejoin the living, just bid me so, and I will send you back."_

* * *

Now that Alduin was defeated (hopefully for good this time) with the aid of several others in the wondrous Sovngarde, the Dragonborn felt strangely hollow; her destined purpose had been accomplished at last, and now she didn't quite know what precisely to do with herself. 

At least she wasn't as down about all this as Paarthurnax was; as much as Alduin needed to die, the two were still brothers. Nothing was ever going to change that. Losing a brother or sister was something the Dragonborn would likely never experience in any way in her life. 

Walking all the way back down the mountain, back to High Hrothgar, she cast a long glance towards the rest of Skyrim. Now, in place of the horrific wind and snowstorms, she could see for miles and miles. The Throat of the World earned its place as the highest mountain in Tamriel. If she squinted, the Dragonborn could see Windstad Manor. 

She had Lucia, if nothing else. Admittedly, it would be strange to see the savior of Skyrim to settle down to a quiet life as some sort of weapon and combat-proficient mother. She wouldn't have to worry about thieves or anything like that, if nothing else. 

Now the Dragonborn looked back up toward the summit, then back down to High Hrothgar. Perhaps she could come and visit Paarthurnax and the Greybeards from time to time. They certainly seemed like they all needed that. 

...

There wasn't really any kind of grandiose celebration when the Dragonborn got to Whiterun. She didn't expect there to be. Besides the Greybeards or the Blades (she still didn't like the latter) writing it down someplace, and adding it to history, she actually expected that she might be forgotten, Dragonborn or not. 

Some rather proud Nords might not accept that the slayer of Alduin was not one of them, but an Altmer woman estranged from her own race. Some of them still gave her a sour expression whenever she walked by them. She reminded herself that they were probably Imperials, or just sore losers. 

It was partially the reason she didn't bother going into the basement of the Blue Palace anymore; too many judgmental and irate Imperials stripped of their Jarl status. The Dragonborn was pretty sure most of them didn't have any children, and another part of it was in regards to her daughter. 

She was most certain that Lucia would be quite happy, to know her Mama just might be able to stay for much longer periods of time. Hopefully Valdimar would also appreciate not having to act as nanny in addition to housecarl anymore. 

One last thing came to mind for the Dragonborn; Ulfric Stormcloak's coronation. Since the threat of Alduin was gone now, all she had to do was wait for the Moot to convene. But of course, she already knew that it would pan out in Ulfric's favor. It was only a matter of waiting for it to all fall into place. 

With all of that in mind, the Dragonborn finished up her business in Whiterun, and started her way home. It would be good to take a proper break now. 


	19. Chapter 19

The day had now arrived.

Although it involved a long wait (like they were delaying it on purpose), the Moot had convened. But Ulfric Stormcloak already knew what the result was going to be. The war ending in his favor guaranteed it. Now he simply needed to wait until the Dragonborn arrived with the one item that he greatly desired. 

"What is _taking_ that woman?" Galmar wasn't quite sure how to keep his annoyance in check in regards to it. "For the prophesied slayer of Alduin, she isn't exactly punctual. Though I guess I shouldn't expect much from an Altmer."

"You must have patience, Galmar," Ulfric said to him while adjusting his ceremonial robe. "She is a busy woman. It is possible that something has come to jeopardize her time. 

"As for her race, I personally find it deliciously ironic that one of the Aldmeri Dominion's own would turn against them. Fear not. In time, that shall be forgotten, and this day will be immortalized in song and story alike." 

Galmar scoffed and shook his head, while crossing his arms. "You and your songs, Ulfric. Though I suppose you do have a point." He was about to keep talking when he was interrupted by a light knocking on the door. 

"You may enter!" Ulfric declared. A moment or two later, the door creaked open. 

...

Lucia couldn't believe what lay before her now. Her eyes sparkled as she took a few steps forward into the room. 

"Well now!" The one wearing an animal pelt quipped. "Looks like the soldiers are beginning to slip up, if kids are able to sneak past-" 

"Galmar." The other man spoke calmly, yet firmly, to his housecarl. He then looked to her, his gaze softening. "What brings you here, little one?" 

Lucia straightened up as well as she was able. "My Mama says I'm supposed to come find you when she got here." She paused. "Something about having what you needed with her."

"Ah, yes. You must be Lucia," Ulfric told her as he got to his feet. "I believe you are the daughter to the Dragonborn. I've heard plenty of good things about you from her. Going by what else she's said, you were the main reason for her to join the Stormcloak side." 

Another scoff from Galmar. "If that's the case, then I suppose we have her to thank for all this." 

"Indeed." Ulfric got closer, adjusting his robe yet again. "Your Mama is a most formidable woman, but she has a soft spot in her heart for you. I must thank you for influencing her ultimate decision." 

Now Galmar facepalmed. "Ulfric, I meant that in jest!" 

"But it is the truth." He looked at Lucia again. She looked a little starstruck, standing there in her orange dress, dagger on her belt. "Well then, little one. Might you escort me to your Mama? It is she whom I was waiting for." Lucia nodded eagerly. She then turned to go back out to lead Ulfric and Galmar to the coronation. 

"Such a spirited child," Ulfric told Galmar. "Perhaps one day she, too, may serve as a Stormcloak when she comes of age." Then he left the room. Galmar just crossed his arms and snorted. He also rolled his eyes, but did grin to himself before going to catch up. 

...

The crowd was immense, perhaps even a little intimidating.

Even so, the Dragonborn waited, Jagged Crown in hand. Part of her certainly considered it an honor to crown the new High King. She also conveniently ignored the glares of all the former Jarls attending. She stood on the pedestal, trying to conceal her nervousness. Finally, she saw Lucia arrive, Ulfric and Galmar in tow. 

"Well, would you look at that!" Galmar couldn't hide his impressive feeling. "Imagine how Hoag would feel if he were here to see all of it himself."

"I would hope he is watching over this day," Ulfric said as he kept following Lucia. "May he be proud of what I have achieved." 

Both went quiet as they approached the pedestal. 

"Here you go Mister Ulfric, Mister Galmar," Lucia said as she made a sort of sweeping motion. Then she padded over to stand behind the Dragonborn. As for Galmar, he stepped forward to briefly address the crowd. 

"Sons and Daughters of Skyrim, I give you: Ulfric Stormcloak, a man to whom I am a housecarl, and who I consider a great friend!" Then he stepped back, to let Ulfric give his speech. 


	20. Chapter 20

"People of Skyrim!" Ulfric began with a most grandiose voice. "It brings me great joy to stand before you today, gaining a title that was won for me from the throes of war! It has been with the help of you all that I am able to stand here today! Though much is still to be done in regards to the Aldmeri Dominion, and the Imperials-"

While he said this part, the dethroned Jarls glared and uttered noises of disgust. One of them even growled like a rabid dog. Thankfully, a hardened stare from the Dragonborn quieted them down rather quickly. Lucia then looked over behind her mother and stuck her tongue out at all of them. 

"It is with true honor that I take on this most glorious of roles!" He paused for a brief moment for dramatic effect, then went on. "It is with my sincerest hope that my father Hoag, the Great Bear of Eastmarch, may hear my words from his place in Sovngarde! May he be proud of that which I have accomplished, with your help!

"Once again, I thank you all, the true Sons and Daughters of Skyrim! I could not have done any of it without you! Now..." 

He and Galmar looked to the Dragonborn, who nodded once and stepped towards them both. She carried the Jagged Crown with the utmost of care, as though she were afraid she was going to break it. Galmar then announced who she was, and what she was there for: 

"Presenting the Jagged Crown, she who has slain Alduin himself! The destroyer of the Dark Brotherhood! One who has encountered many daedric princes, and lived! Renouncing her Imperial ties and Altmer blood, for the good of this land! Truly, an ambitious and admirable one!" As he went on with the accolades, the Dragonborn rolled her eyes. However, she was also blushing a little, quite flattered by all of it. 

"To us, she is known as the glorious 'Stormblade', a good friend to both I, and Ulfric!" Galmar put his fist to his chest when he said the word 'Stormblade'. "People of Skyrim, I give you: the legendary Dragonborn!" 

When she was standing close enough to them, Ulfric couldn't help but comment on everything said about her: 

"It sounds as if this is a most glorious day for _you_ as well," he spoke with a grin. The Dragonborn just blushed harder, and waved it off. Then she took a better hold of the Crown, and lifted it up above them. In response, Ulfric bowed his head, feeling it descend upon him. When he looked back up, the Jagged Crown sat upon the top, a perfect fit. 

Galmar walked closer to the crowd again, lifting one arm up and proceeding to bellow out a cheer, one that everyone (or almost everyone) echoed: 

**_"All hail the new High King!"_ **

**_"All hail Ulfric Stormcloak!"_ **

This went on until it was shouted out a sufficient number of times.

**_-two months later-_ **

Lucia knelt in front of her Mama's Shrine of Talos, which along with the others had been moved to the second floor of the Manor. Her arms were open wide, as though she were expecting Talos himself to come forth and hug her. She didn't move from there until she heard Valdimar. 

"Your Mama desires your help, little one!" He called out to her. "Best not to keep her waiting!" At that, Lucia got to her feet and brushed herself off. She then excitedly went down the stairs as quickly as possible without tripping. Whenever the Dragonborn requested her help, it was usually to choose what kind of treat she wanted after dinner. 

Her Mama was standing in front of the oven, holding a peel in one hand like it were a long spear. Now that she was no longer needed as her destined role as Dragonborn, there wasn't really any sense in wearing her armor all the time anymore (it got put onto a mannequin in the house instead). In its place, she wore her custom-made Dark Brotherhood dress, and a white hat. 

She kept the boots on, though. 

"Did you need me, Mama?" Lucia asked of her when she entered the kitchen. The Dragonborn looked over her shoulder, and nodded. She pointed to the various ingredients used to make all the sweet and savory baked goods Lucia loved so much. Quickly, she picked out the makings for Snowberry Crostata, which her Mama set aside for afterwards. 

Right as Lucia was going to ask when dinner would be ready, a loud knock at the front door to the manor could be heard. So she turned her attention to that instead. 

"I'll get it!" She cried out as she rushed to answer. The Dragonborn slowly turned back to her baking, only to be shocked back to her looking when she heard Lucia greet the guests with "Hi, Mister Galmar! Hi, Mister Ulfric!" Then she ran out to see it for herself. Sure enough, the two men were standing just inside the manor, having been let in by Lucia. 

"Such a warm welcome," Ulfric said to Galmar as they approached the main room of the house. "Though I suppose I would not expect anything less of the Dragonborn's child." 

Galmar snorted. "Seeing that she's got a whole room used as an armory, you'd think otherwise." Then both men gazed upon the Dragonborn. Although Galmar's eyes widened while looking at her, Ulfric remained calm. 

"I do hope we are not being rude by arriving without notice," Ulfric said to her. He glanced over at his housecarl. "Galmar, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you've become sweet on the Dragonborn." 

"It isn't that, it's just..." He gestured to her outfit. "I'm so used to seeing her in her armor, sometimes I forget she's even a woman!" Ulfric could only chuckle at that. Everyone else besides Galmar did as well. 

Then Ulfric straightened himself up. "By any chance could we stay for a meal? Being High King can be quite tiring, and I'd like some time away from the castle to relax." All that the Dragonborn could really do was nod, before going back to retrieve two more sets of dinnerware. 

At least now she could live a semi-normal life, visits from the High King notwithstanding. 


End file.
